Fall Flowers in Tin Vase with I love to sing of Heav’n and I shall not want: in deserts wild

I love to sing of Heav’n,
Where white robed angels are;
Where many a friend is gathered safe
From fear, and toil, and care.

I love to think of Heav’n,
Where my Redeemer reigns;
Where rapturous songs of triumph rise,
In endless, joyous strains.

I love to think of Heav’n,
That promised land so fair;
Oh, how my raptured spirit longs
To be forever there.

Chorus
There’ll be no sorrow there,
There’ll be no sorrow there;
In Heav’n above, where all is love,
There’ll be no sorrow there.

L. Hartsough

I shall not want: in deserts wild
Thou spread’st thy table for thy child;
While grace in streams for thirsting souls,
Through earth and heaven forever rolls.

I shall not want: my darkest night
Thy loving smile shall fill with light;
While promises around me bloom,
And cheer me with divine perfume.

I shall not want: thy righteousness
My soul shall clothe with glorious dress;
My blood-washed robe shall be more fair
Than garments kings or angels wear.

I shall not want: whate’er is good,
Of daily bread or angel’s food,
Shall to my Father’s child be sure,
So long as earth and heaven endure.

Charles F. Deems